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Bury us deep - Fahd Husain

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Bury us deep

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If you lose the narrative, can you win on the negotiating table? Or on the battlefield?

The hour is upon us and we are found wanting. The epic battle for the soul of Pakistan is raging around us, on us and in us — and victory is nowhere in sight. Surrender looms ominously overhead. Jinnah’s Pakistan lies scattered amid the wreckage of charred buses, bombed churches and mutilated bodies.

The stench of defeat is unmistakable.

Even false bravado has evaporated. It seems we cannot fight with our guns; we cannot fight with our words; and now, we cannot even fight with our thoughts. The heart has given up. And so has the mind.

Indeed, if there is a fight still left in us, it is a fight of adjectives. As lambs fight with bleats, we fight with one another — not with the enemy — hurling deadly adjectives like grenades. We spit venom, call names, point fingers and besmirch names and reputations. Once exhausted, we pat ourselves on the back for a fight well fought and prepare for the next round.

Meantime, the enemy sharpens his blade and washes it with blood. Our blood.

What do you do when the narrative is lost? What do you do with leaders whose tongues falter when naming the enemy? What do you do when they don’t know and don’t care?

So yes, let us name the names. Imran Khan doesn’t know. Nawaz Sharif doesn’t care.

Am I being judgemental? Yes, absolutely. Allow me this liberty to say it as it is and not wrap hardened reality in soft velvet covers. In this land of confusion, these two gentlemen — undisputed leaders of the two largest parties — will go down in history for presiding over the final annihilation of Jinnah’s Pakistan.

Their names will live in infamy for having surrendered the soul of Pakistan to throat slitters and baby-killers. Decades from now, this beloved land of ours may be an unrecognisable nation, forcefully mutated into a grotesque caricature of the dreams our forefathers dreamt. And when Pakistanis of the future peek back into history, they will see today, now, as the moment when the battle was lost. Two names then will rise from the pages of history to mock the dream that was once Pakistan: two names that will define how Pakistan was finally and ultimately lost.

Nawaz Sharif and Imran Khan.

Defining moments are defined by a well-defined narrative, which in turn defines a definitive leader. The moment makes the man. Britain faced defeat and destruction at the hands of Nazi Germany.
The darkest hour was upon it. Enter Winston Churchill:

“We shall fight on the seas and oceans … We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.”

Churchill transformed his country’s darkest hour into its finest moment.

Am I then advocating total war against the TTP? Not exactly. War is the last resort and we all hope it doesn’t come to that. But before war, before negotiations and before dialogue, comes clarity of thought, executed through the power of narrative.

Nawaz Sharif has no narrative. None whatsoever. Bullet trains, motorways and flyovers do not define the soul of a nation. If he believes this existential war against terrorists can be fought with bricks and mortar, he is already a man vanquished by the enormity of the moment.

Imran Khan has lost the plot. His ego, his naiveté and stubborn refusal to face reality has unfortunately redefined his persona. Khan the reformer has now become Khan the apologist. Perhaps even an ally. What a waste of a perfectly good man.

Together these two men hold high the fluttering white flag of craven surrender. Together their quivering, dithering, grovelling and vacillating leadership has brought us to our knees. Together they will watch as the enemy cuts this nation’s head.

And then takes its soul.

Published in The Express Tribune, September 29th, 2013.
 
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